


Squeaky wheel

by Em_Jaye



Series: The Long Way Around [26]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cats, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/pseuds/Em_Jaye
Summary: Woody Allen once said, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans." With that in mind, Darcy had to wonder if there was anyone who could make God laugh quite like Steve Rogers.March 1974: New roommate
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Series: The Long Way Around [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402126
Comments: 73
Kudos: 244





	Squeaky wheel

**Author's Note:**

> This is just pure and unapologetic fluff to officially close out 2019/welcome 2020. Because if you can't go out on a pile of fluff, what's the point, amirght?

A water main ruptured the first Wednesday in March, leaving Skyline High School without running water for forty-eight hours. Legally, they couldn’t let the students stay in a building without running water, so there was nothing for any of the teachers to do except take attendance so it still counted as a school day and send everyone home with an unexpected day off.

That was the only reason Steve was around that morning to hear it. He’d parked in his usual spot on the street and was nearly to the front door of the apartment when a peculiar sound stopped him. He frowned and tilted his head to one side, waiting to see if he could hear it again.

There it was. A high-pitched squeak—like the sound a dog’s toy made when it was squeezed. Steve looked around for the source but found nothing out of the ordinary. He had to wait to hear it a third time before he could pinpoint that it was coming from beneath one of the other parked cars.

He bent and peered beneath a pick-up, and then moved on to the hideous green Datsun behind it. There, hiding behind the back passenger wheel, Steve found a scrawny, dirty kitten, huddled close to the tire, wide-eyed and mewing plaintively. He had to wait for the cat to make the sound again to be sure he’d heard it correctly. He smiled and got down on his knees slowly. “Hey pal,” he said softly, reaching a hand out to touch the animal’s muddy fur. “What are you doing under there?”

The angle was a little awkward and there was another squeak when he finally closed his hand around its skinny body, but with a minimal amount of maneuvering, Steve managed to pull the cat up onto the curb with him and away from the immediate danger of the road. He studied his new companion for a moment before he frowned. “You don’t look so good, my friend,” he said, scratching him behind his ears. He was filthy, streaked in mud and engine grease with a patch of fur missing from the back of his neck and much too skinny. Steve could count his ribs and felt a stab of sympathy when a set of tiny teeth closed around his thumb and he was given a playful swat of a paw. “If I pick you up, you can’t scratch me,” he said, peering into the kitten’s amber eyes. “Deal?”

They must have had a deal because Steve remained unscratched as he shifted his bag onto one shoulder and carried the kitten up to the apartment in his other arm. He’d set his bag down and shrugged carefully out of his coat before he had time to stop and think about what exactly he was doing. “I don’t want a cat,” he said out loud. “I don’t even like cats.”

The pathetic pile of fur and bones in his hand mewed again and Steve grimaced. “Sorry,” he muttered. “But you’re not staying.” They moved to the kitchen where he found a can of tuna in the cabinet and popped it open. He set it on the floor and placed the kitten in front of it, relieved to see he at least had an appetite. While his temporary charge was eating, Steve grabbed the phone book from the top of refrigerator and flipped to the back, looking for the nearest vet.

It took a few calls, but he found a vet with an upcoming free hour who was willing to let him come in. “She sounds very nice,” Steve informed the kitten, whose muzzle was now covered in tuna, only adding to the pity points he was racking up. “I’m sure she’ll fix you right up and be able to find you a good home.”

To Steve’s surprise, there was no howling or scratching when he set the cat in the sink and ran warm water over his fur. He looked like he might bite for a second when Steve started scrubbing a drop of dish soap over the rough muddy streaks on his back, but after a few seconds, his ears relaxed and his eyes closed and Steve thought he seemed to be enjoying himself.

For a moment, as he was wrapping the freshly washed kitten in an old dish towel, Steve considered calling Darcy and telling her what was going on. He vetoed that plan almost as soon as it entered his mind. No calling Darcy, he told himself. Because if he called Darcy then they were definitely keeping this cat and he didn’t want that.

The vet was a woman in her fifties with gray streaks in short brown hair and a very no-nonsense way of speaking. She checked eyes, ears and teeth and mentioned all the things Steve had noticed about the animal when he’d first picked him up. Too skinny, definitely a stray, looked like he’d been in a fight or two already.

“I can give you a treatment for the fleas,” she said with a shrug. “And there’s a standard round of shots you might need paperwork to prove he’s received for your landlord. Otherwise he’s just going to need some food and probably a little time to get used to being inside.”

Steve blinked. “Oh, I’m not…” he looked down at the scruffy kitten rubbing against his hand. Now that he was clean, Steve saw that his fur was not a mottled brown, but mostly orange with a white stripe down his chest. “I’m not keeping him,” he said firmly. “I just didn’t want him to get hit by a car.”

The vet frowned. The lines around her lips deepened. “Oh,” she said and marked a note on the chart she’d been filling in. “Well, in that case, just leave him here and I’ll take care of him.”

Feeling uncomfortably dismissed, Steve shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Do you…have a way of finding him a home?” he asked carefully.

She looked up. “Unfortunately, no. There are too many cats in this city already. If I take him to the pound, he’ll be put down almost immediately.” Steve’s heart sank without his permission. The kitten continued rubbing against his hand as the vet continued. “If he stays here, I can keep him for maybe a week, see if anyone wants him, but more likely than not, I’ll have to put him down too—there’s just no room.” She seemed unhappy to be delivering this news; Steve didn’t doubt she’d had to do this more times than she cared to.

“I really don’t like cats,” he said plainly.

The vet shrugged. “They’re not for everyone,” she said, more kindly than before. “Don’t feel guilty—it’s better that you brought him here instead of leaving him on the street.”

Steve sighed. “No,” he shook his head. “I can’t just—” The last of his resolve dropped away in remarkably short order and he picked the kitten up to look at him eye-to-eye. “This was not part of the plan for today,” he said seriously. Any remaining crumbs of reservation dissolved as the cat raised a small paw and tapped Steve’s chin. From the corner of his eye, he saw the vet try to smother a smile between her lips.

“If you’re really not a cat person…” she started, but Steve shook his head.

“I’m not,” he assured her. “But my girl is.” He sighed again in resignation. “She’ll take great care of him.” He looked down at the animal in the palm of his hand again. “You hear that, you lucky son of a bitch? You’re going to be Darcy’s cat—not mine.”

The vet’s smile had broadened when he looked up again. She held out a hand and gestured for the cat. “If he’s going home with you, I’ve got to get him ready to go.”

A round of shots, a flea dip, and a bill he hadn’t planned on later, Steve and his new furry companion left the vet’s office and crossed the street to the pet store she’d suggested when he’d been writing out the check to pay her. The girl behind the counter there had bright brown eyes that lit up when she noticed that he was carrying a kitten in one hand and immediately volunteered to assemble everything he and Darcy would need to care for their new roommate.

Relieved that she didn’t seem to need his input on anything, Steve waited patiently while she darted around the shop for a litter box and food dishes, treats and catnip and a tiny blue collar with a bell he was already certain would drive him crazy. The shop phone rang as she was about to begin to ring him up and Steve found himself wandering over to the wall of fluffy, feathered cat toys. Idly, he picked up a pack of jingle balls and a stuffed mouse with a feather for a tail and held them out to the animal in his other hand. “Do you have a preference?”

Hesitantly, and shooting Steve a doubtful glance every few seconds, the kitten stretched out his patchy neck and sniffed first the jingle balls and then the mouse. He sniffed the mouse a second time before his nose twitched and his whole body shook with a little sneeze that Steve adamantly refused to admit was the cutest thing he’d ever heard.

Unable to tell if that meant he preferred the mouse to the other toys or if he just couldn’t handle his nip, Steve brought both offerings and the kitten back to the counter just as the young woman was finishing her phone call. “He’s so _cute_ ,” she crooned, opening the door of a hard-bodied carrier so Steve could place him inside. “What’s his name?”

“Uh…he,” Steve closed the door. “He doesn’t have one yet.”

She started ringing up his items. “Do you have any ideas?”

He shook his head; he wasn’t going to name him without Darcy’s input. “I didn’t think I was keeping him until about an hour ago,” he confessed. “We’ll figure something out.”

There was no mistaking the sounds of Darcy coming home from work. Steve heard the usual cacophony of her rummaging for her keys before she unlocked the door and dropped everything she was carrying to the floor. The sound of her purse, coat, work bag, and keys all hitting the floor at once spooked the little ball of orange fluff that had curled up and fallen asleep in the middle of the bed. Steve reached out and gave him a quick pet. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “She’s loud, but you’re going to love her.” He got off the bed and needlessly held a finger to his lips. “Hang out here,” he told the cat. “I’ll be right back.” His audience didn’t seem to have any plans otherwise and settled his head back on his paws as Steve slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Darcy looked up from where she was untying her shoes and offered him a smile. “Hello, handsome.”

“Hey,” he smiled back and crossed the room to greet her with a kiss. He smiled against her lips as she kicked off her shoes and dropped two inches shorter mid-kiss. “Good day?” he asked as they parted.

She shrugged. “Neutral day. How was yours?”

“Not so neutral,” he decided, suddenly hoping he’d made the right call and Darcy would actually _want_ this kitten he could no longer give up. “Kind of one surprise after another.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh really?” He nodded, watching as she picked up her mess and hung her coat up on the rack by the door alongside her purse. “Good surprises or bad surprises?”

“Good,” he said carefully. “I think.”

“Good you think?” she echoed with a smile. “Steve, why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

He smiled back. “Okay,” he relented easily, wanting to get this part of the day over with. “Do me a favor and close your eyes.”

She eyed him warily but did as he asked. “They’re closed,” she stated. “Now what?”

He took her hand and started leading her down the hall toward their room. To his relief the kitten had not moved from his spot when Steve opened the door again. He untangled his fingers from Darcy’s and arranged her arms so her hands were held out. “Stay there,” he ordered when her face wrinkled in confusion. Cautiously, he picked up the kitten, grateful when he stayed quiet, and gently deposited him in Darcy’s open palms.

Her eyes flew open immediately and Steve could have sworn a pair of cartoon hearts burst over her face as she looked at the animal in her hands. “Oh my goodness, hello!” she cried and brought her face to his and let him touch his nose to hers. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” She looked up with wide, hopeful eyes before she added, “And the answer to that second question better be ‘staying with us forever and ever’ because you can’t tease me like this.”

Steve laughed, relieved, and shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that,” he promised. “I found him outside under a car.”

Darcy pouted and brought the kitten to her chest. “Poor baby,” she said quietly as she sat down at the foot of the bed and let her chin be nuzzled as Steve relayed what had happened at the vet and how, despite his best intentions, they were cat owners now. “You mean it?” she asked, looking up from where she’d been kissing the top of the kitten’s head.

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’s not a pet-free building and,” he smiled again, “if you think I could possibly say no to the face you’re giving me right now…”

She bit her lip as the tops of her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s just, I know cats aren’t your favorite…”

“They’re not,” he agreed with a shrug. “But you’re my favorite,” he leaned over and kissed her forehead before he gave the kitten another scratch behind the ears. “And this one’s not so bad.”

Darcy raised her chin to kiss him. “I love you,” she said simply before an idea stuck her. “Does he have a name?”

He shook his head again. “Not yet.”

She set four orange and white paws back on the bedspread and let out an exaggerated gasp when he immediately flopped onto his side and started to clean his face. “Oh my God he’s so cute I might actually die. I don’t think I can stop swooning long enough to come up with a name.” She let her nails drift over the white of his belly before she looked up at Steve. “You’ve spent more time with him; what do you think we should call him?”

There had been only one name that had cropped up with potential in the hours he’d been waiting for Darcy to get home. Watching the kitten trot cautiously through the apartment, exploring everything he could see and startling himself with each unexpected sound. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You might think it’s dumb.”

“No, I won’t,” Darcy insisted. “I promise.”

“Scrabble?”

She smiled slowly before she bit her lip. “I like it,” she said. “But I want to know why you thought of it.”

Against his will, Steve felt the tops of his ears burn and he moved his shoulder in an attempt at a casual shrug. “Well, I mean, I said I’d keep him with you in mind and Scrabble happens to be one of the things I associate with you so…”

“Why?” she laughed. “Because I’m one of the only losers you know who genuinely loves playing it?”

He chuckled. “I actually know plenty of losers who love to play it now. Teachers are huge nerds.” She snorted before he continued. “No, it’s just that…” he coughed. “We were playing Scrabble that day you told me that story. About your grandmother.”

When he glanced up, Darcy’s smile had softened and she looked more thoughtful than before. “That’s right,” she said quietly. “I forgot about that.”

He rolled a shoulder again. “That’s just…I don’t know. I think that’s the first time I realized how special you are.”

“Aw, honey,” she said and leaned over to brush her lips to his. She pulled away after only a few minutes seconds, her expression knit in confusion. “Hang on.”

“What?”

“We were here for like, a _year_ before I told you that story.” She raised a single eyebrow. “Are you telling me it took you a _year_ to realize how lucky you were to be stuck here with me instead of someone else?”

Steve let out a choked laugh. "Well, I mean—”

She was already shaking her head, another smile tugging at her lips. “I sure do fall for dumb ones.” Her fingers threaded into his hair before he could protest or explain himself and she pulled him in for another kiss. “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty,” she said when she let him go.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered with another grin as Darcy picked up the kitten again and held him up to her face.

“What do you think, little love?” she raised her eyebrows. “Do you think you’re a Scrabble?”

Her question was met with a wide yawn and a squeaky chirp of a meow that couldn’t have been anything but agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> *blows kisses*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
